


Say Hello to the Night

by UnicornAttack



Category: Lost Boys (1987)
Genre: Blood Drinking, M/M, Mild Gore, Vampire Turning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-11
Updated: 2013-07-11
Packaged: 2017-12-19 04:18:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/879377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnicornAttack/pseuds/UnicornAttack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An origin story of sorts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say Hello to the Night

It’s cold. Jesus fuck, is it cold. Dwayne stands huddled underneath a streetlight, feeling cheap and dirty. He wishes it had never come to this. But fuck, he’s desperate—he can’t get a proper job, no matter where he looks.

 _It’s for him_ , a little voice in Dwayne’s head whispers. _It’s for Danny. You can’t NOT help your nephew, right?_

Someone’s coming down the street. Dwayne straightens up and tries to look attentive.

“Excuse me, sir?” he says as the man approaches, and inwardly winces at how stupid he sounds. The man looks at him as if he’s only just noticed him there.

“Yes?”

“Um…”

And this is where it gets awkward, because Dwayne never knows how to ask. He’s not forward enough to simply say ‘Fancy a fuck?’; instead, he has to stand there, feeling stupid, until the other person gets the hint.

“You want to go to bed with me?” the man says, and Dwayne blinks at him. He’s quick.

“Y-yeah.”

“How much?”

“Um…thirty bucks?”

“Thirty? Little pricey, isn’t it?”

“I can make it lower,” Dwayne blurts out. He doesn’t want to lose a potential customer. “I don’t—”

“Thirty’s fine,” the man says mildly. He’s probably only a few years older than Dwayne.

“What’s your name?” Dwayne asks.

“David. What’s yours? Your real name,” David adds emphatically. Dwayne swallows thickly.

“Darren,” he replies.

They find a motel a couple blocks south of Dwayne’s apartment; he never takes guys back there, purely because he’d never want Danny to be exposed to the kind of trash he picks up. Not that he leaves Danny home alone, of course—he drops him off with Mrs Whitlow next door, an elderly widow who thinks that Dwayne’s going on night shift at a gas station. Ha, ha, ha. Good joke.

David pushes him up against the door and begins nuzzling his neck. It leaves Dwayne feeling vaguely nauseated, just like usual, but there’s something strangely compelling about David; it isn’t that he’s good-looking (although he is), because Dwayne’s had a few who weren’t bad, and they still left him feeling faintly disgusted with himself. Dwayne tries to move away so he can get to the bed, but David has him firmly pinned against the door.

“C-can I get past?”

“What’s your name?” David asks.

“I told you my name.”

David’s expression darkens.

“I meant your real name,” he says softly, and Dwayne wants to run and run and run until he’s as far away from this maniac as possible, because by now he’s pretty sure he’s not going to see the light of the next morning.

“Please. Please, you don’t have to pay, just let me go—”

He’s cut off by David’s right hand moving to his neck. Sweet Jesus, the guy’s strong.

“Don’t lie.”

Dwayne can feel tears threatening to rise up and spill forth, but he represses them.

“Dwayne,” he croaks. David lets go of his throat, and he gasps for air.

“You don’t want to do this job. Why do you do it?”

“Stop it. Stop it, you don’t have the right to do this…”

But David’s gaze pierces right through Dwayne’s pathetic defences, and he crumples pathetically.

“My nephew,” he whispers. “My nephew. He’s only six. He…I can’t get a proper job…”

“How touching,” David remarks flatly. “The boy’s parents?”

“I don’t have to—”

“Don’t.”

Dwayne swallows.

“Dead. My brother and his wife. I was the only one who could…”

He trails off as David leans in further and caresses his face with a gloved hand. He grins lecherously, and, all too late, Dwayne sees the fangs, glinting slightly in the soft glow of the ceiling light.

“I can take you away from all of this,” he hisses. Dwayne wants to scream but he can’t. He’s paralysed, rooted to the spot, his breath coming out in harsh, heaving sobs. David’s breath stinks of rotting meat and has a metallic tang to it. He leans in even closer, and Dwayne’s entire body spasms as he feels David’s fangs sink into his neck, tearing at the flesh.

The feeling as David swallows down Dwayne’s blood, sucking the holes on his neck like he’s half-starved, is pleasant in an almost sexual way, and Dwayne gasps and fists his hands in David’s white-blonde hair, writhing against the door. After what seems like a millennia, David withdraws, and he exposes his neck to Dwayne. Dwayne runs his tongue over his teeth, and finds that his upper canines are sharper.

“Now,” David says impatiently. Dwayne lunges forward and sinks his fangs into David’s neck. In a matter of seconds, his mouth is flooded with warm, coppery blood, and he swallows it all.

“That’s enough,” David says eventually, and, somewhat reluctantly, Dwayne pulls away. He wipes his mouth on his sleeve. David smirks. “What about little Danny?”

Dwayne’s sure he didn’t mention Danny’s name, but he plays along anyway.

“You didn’t give me much of a choice,” he points out, but he still feels a pang of guilt when he thinks about his nephew. Maybe he’ll be better off living with Mrs Whitlow; at least she doesn’t disappear at night and come home at four o’clock in the morning, dirty and dishevelled. David beams at him, displaying rows of gleaming white teeth, his fangs poking out over the rest; it reminds Dwayne of a shark.

“Welcome to the family.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from 'Lost in the Shadows', the song that plays as Michael and the boys ride to the hotel. My apologies if Dwayne seems out-of-character at all, but considering how little he says in the film, it wasn't easy to write him.


End file.
